Fireweaver

The Story of a Life, a Near-Death, and Beyond

By: May Eulitt and Stephen Hoyer

11 NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE

In the early fall, shortly before James and Rashad were to have gone back to India, the three of us went to the cornfields one afternoon to cut fodder. This involves chopping up what's left of the corn stalks after the corn has been picked and hauling it away. Dad had an old tractor that we might have used, but it was more trouble to start than it was worth. So for light hauling we still usually used an old team of horses, and that's what we did on this particular day. There was a metal gate that separated the cornfield from the hay meadows where the rest of the family was working that day. Throughout the day we would take turns climbing down off the wagon to open and shut it so the cows wouldn't get in the fodder until we were finished for the day.

There was a tingle in the air that day that was more than just the nippy temperature. There was a feeling of excitement that we all acknowledged and peculiar kind of energy that we all felt as we raced down the rows to see who could cut the fastest. The horses even seemed to sense something and moved along at an unusually fast pace all day without being urged to. In the late afternoon a storm began to brew over the slopes of the western hills. Raindrops plopped here and there, and we decided that this would be our last load for the day. When we reached the gate, it was James' turn to climb down and open the gate. He opened it and pulled it back, and I shouted over the wind for him to leave it open. James reached up for my arm as he clambered back onto the wagon. I guess I was leaning the wrong way, because his weight pulled me toward him, and I was about to fall when Rashad reached out and grabbed my other arm to steady me.

It was at that exact moment that the lightning hit. I saw it sparkle along the top of the gate, and then it exploded around us with such an incredible brightness that it felt as if we were being sucked directly into the sun. The next thing we knew, all of that was gone, and we were all in a large room or hall made of dark stone. The ceiling was so high and the gloom so thick that we couldn't see the top. There were no furnishings or wall hangings—just cold, black stone all around. I knew I should be afraid, but I just felt peaceful, floating along there in the gloom with my two friends in the great, dark hall. The stately walls of this place loomed above us, and somehow they radiated both great power and great masculinity. It was as if some ancient warrior king had once inhabited the hall and had left behind all the strong symbols of manhood upon his departure. I remember thinking that it would have suited King Arthur. It was at that point that I realized that the three of us were united in thought and body. We were holding hands just as we had been when the lightning struck, but our minds were connected as well. Images of Arthur came to me from James and Rashad, and I could see the same images that they were seeing. James saw only a comic version of the once and future king. Rashad saw himself as Arthur, as if portraying him in a play. In a twinkling, I suddenly knew James and Rashad better than I have known anyone else in my life.

We realized there was light coming into the chamber from an archway at one end, but it was more than just light. It was a golden warmth that embraced us. It gave off a feeling of peace and contentment that was more intense than anything we had ever felt, and we were drawn toward it. We were not speaking, but we were communicating with one another on some other level, seeing through one another's eyes and souls. As we came to the archway and passed through, we entered a beautiful valley much like the one I visited in my delirium as a child. There were meadows and tree-lined hills that led to tall mountains in the distance, and everything glistened with golden sparks of light. James and Rashad saw it as the Ha Valley in India in the time before humans, and at first, I saw the same things they did.

We saw that the sparkling lights were tiny, transparent bubbles that drifted in the air and sparkled on the grass. We realized that each tiny sparkle was a soul. At this point, our separate visions began to diverge, but we were still each aware of what the others were seeing. To me, the valley appeared to be Heaven, but at the same time I knew that James and Rashad were seeing it differently. James saw it as the Gulf of Souls. Rashad saw it as Nirvana, and somehow we knew all this without speaking. The light began to gather at the far end of the valley, and the mountains sparkled with its presence. Out of the mist, a white being with a golden hue began to materialize. I saw an angel with a strong, bright face, but not as you'd usually imagine. She was closer to a strong, Viking Valkyrie. I knew she was the special angel that watches over the women of my family, and somehow I knew that her name was Helena. I have often wondered if the reason I perceived her this way was that the strength of the women in my family had always impressed me so much. James saw this same being as his late father, a career Navy officer, in a white naval uniform with gold buttons. The buttons shone so brightly that they wrapped the being in a soft, golden glow. Rashad perceived the being to be the Enlightened One, or Buddha. He was dressed in white linen with gold threads running through his raiment.

The being spoke first to Rashad and welcomed him. He said that Rashad's time on earth was done. He was worthy now of Nirvana. Rashad asked why James and I were there and was told that we were part of the reason he was worthy of Nirvana. His two great friends loved him so much that they had willingly accompanied him on his last journey. At the same time, however, James received a different message. He had been worried about what his father would think about his antiwar protest activities, and his father told him he was proud of him for standing up for what he believed. He knew he was not a coward because a coward would not have made this journey with Rashad. I received yet another message in which Helena told me that she was glad I had remembered the example of strength, honesty, wisdom, and loyalty taught to me by my family.

We spent what seemed like an eternity in this garden of souls as we talked to our separate, yet joined, entities. They said that they appeared to us in this way because back in the real world we were physically joined when the lightning struck us. They said that it also symbolized the joining of all religions and doctrines. They said that I would live to see a new age of tolerance and that the souls and hearts of humanity would eventually be joined as securely and as safely as the three of us were currently joined.

We perceived that in the distant mountains there abided a true Unity. We were led to know that this One was the supreme essence of all religions and that all the higher elements of the universe were vested in this being. The guides taught us that doctrine and creed and race meant nothing. No matter what we believed, we were all children joined under one God, and the only rule was God's true law—do unto others as you would have them do unto you. We should treat all people as if they were a part of our soul, because they are. All living things in the universe were connected to one another. They said that soon humanity would mature enough to assume a higher place in the universal scheme of things, but until then we must learn acceptance and tolerance and love for one another. They said that there would come a new age when people would not be able to endure seeing others homeless and hungry. We would realize that only by helping one another could we truly help ourselves.

In the time we spent with our guides I begged Helena to give me some understanding of all that was happening, not just during this amazing experience, but also back home in my real life. She told me that I would be given the time I needed in another existence to understand what it all meant and that after I found understanding I would know what I had to do with my life. She said that I was not yet ready for the lessons I would eventually learn beyond the veil. These lessons would be long and hard, but they were necessary for me to achieve my higher potential. She said that we all have to be willing to face our worst fears and acknowledge our greatest flaws before we can find out who we truly are. This is a truth I am still trying to master.

Before we would leave this glorious place, I told Helena that there was one more thing I wanted to know. When I was young I had prayed that God would make me a missionary to China, and my prayer had been answered when an angel had come to my room one night and said, "Calm your fervor, child. That is not what God has planned for you. God doesn't want you to convert anyone. God doesn't care about doctrines and trivial physical weaknesses. He cares only about what is in the heart of each person." But because I had not become a missionary, I wanted to know why God had not seen fit to use me. "Oh, but child," Helena said, "He has. You have affected many people with your kind heart and an open kitchen door. Your service to God is measured not so much by how far you go to help those in obvious need, but by how much you give of yourself to those whose true suffering you may never know."

Eventually our spirit guide told us that it was time to go. We would not be allowed to stay longer because it was not yet time for me or for James: only for Rashad. The Enlightened One told Rashad that he would have a little time before he returned to take care of his worldly affairs. James' father told him that he would return to this place soon after Rashad, but the two of them had to go back for now so that I could. I said that I would willingly stay here in this valley with them, but Helena told me that I had not fulfilled my destiny and that I had children yet unborn.

We drifted slowly toward the archway. The pull became stronger, and we were literally thrown back into the world. We floated for a while there, hovering above our bodies. Some of my cousins had been in the next field and had seen what happened. We saw them all come running to where we lay. We could see that James and Rashad's hands were still stuck to my arms, and we watched as my cousins pried their fingers loose so they could turn Rashad over to help him.

When our hands were pried loose, James and I reentered our bodies. We felt as if we were on fire, but it turned out that we had only minor injuries. Rashad, it seemed, being on the end, had taken most of the charge. The doctors said that the lightning had caused damage to his heart, lungs, and liver. He remained in the hospital for several weeks. During that time, tests revealed that James had a brain tumor, probably caused by the beating he took at Kent State, which would eventually claim his life.

As soon as Rashad was well enough to travel, James took him home to India, where Rashad took on the life of the ascetic, in the Vedic tradition, just as his grandfather had done. He wrote to his wife and told her to stay with her family because he knew he was going to die, and he wanted his last time to be spent in spiritual awakenings. In the writings of the ancient Vedas, the ascetic stage is the one that occurs after a man has raised his family and his children are gone from home. At that time, he is expected to put away all physical things and concentrate on the things of the mind and soul. And that's more or less the lifestyle that Rashad adopted for the last days of his life.

James went back to teaching, and the three of us all wrote to one another every week. About a year and a half later, on a cold day in January, Rashad returned to Nirvana. James and I knew when his soul left the world without being told. James called me and we talked for a long time. As soon as we hung up, Rashad's brother called James to tell him the news. I once gave Rashad a book. He had his brother write a note in the back of it and send it back to me when he died. The following passages were marked. All are from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."

Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the souls walking upon my path."

For the soul walks upon all paths.

But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed . . . . You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.

You are not enclosed within your bodies, nor confined to houses or fields. That which is you dwells above the mountain and roves with the wind.

It is not a thing that crawls into the sun for warmth or digs holes into darkness for safety,

But a thing free, a spirit that envelops the earth and moves in the ether.

This would I have you remember in remembering me:

That which seems most feeble and bewildered in you is the strongest and most determined.

Is it not your breath that has erected and hardened the structure of your bones?

And is it not a dream which none of you remember having dreamt, that builded your city and fashioned all that there is in it?

Could you but see the tides of that breath you would cease to see all else,

And if you could hear the whispering of the dream you would hear no other sound.

You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;

And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

James lived about three years after he found out he had the brain tumor. The doctors had made it very clear that he had virtually no chance of recovery, but even though he knew he was going to die, he at first denied it as so many people do. I think the reason he finally came to acceptance was that he knew that when he died, he'd see Rashad again. He and Rashad were raised together like brothers, and Rashad was the closest person to him on this earth. I was probably the second closest person, but Rashad was his mentor, and that means a lot more, I think, to a man than it does to a woman. It was very difficult for James to accept that his mentor was gone. So in the end, all James wanted to do was go and be with Rashad, and the brain tumor didn't really matter anymore.

When Rashad died, I had hair that reached my knees. So did he. I remember the first time I ever saw his hair down. It was that first misty morning in the little spillway bridge, when I thought he was an apparition of some ancient god. The fog enshrouded him in wisps and curls that ran like damp fingers through his hair. I had never seen him like that before. Usually he and I both kept our hair braided and wrapped on the back of our heads, so this was the first time either of us had let our hair down, so to speak. When he died, I went to the mirror and took out the pins that held up my hair, letting the braid fall down over my shoulder. When I looked at my reflection, I saw the warm, bright days of summer and the cool, misty mornings we had spent together. I heard his low, soft laughter. I saw us there on the bridge where a cloud of black and a halo of red enveloped us in soft, damp locks.

When I focused on my image in the mirror again, I knew what I had to do. Something of myself had to be sacrificed to his memory, and my hair seemed the perfect gift. I pushed the scissors up tight against the back of my head and swished them shut. The braid came loose in my hand. I stood there and stared at it as though I had killed a living thing. I stroked the length of it, remembering how he had loved to touch it and all the feelings we had shared of its touch. I put it into an envelope and mailed it that day to James, who took it with him when he went back to the Ha Valley to honor Rashad's memory. He made a paper boat, put the braid in it, and then took it to the river where Rashad's ashes had floated away to the great Ganges and eventually to the sea. He set the small boat on fire and placed it in the water. A small whirlpool caught the little boat and whirled it round and round until it was gone.

My hair was cut so short in the back that the friend who does my hair almost had to cut me bald to straighten it out, but I was beyond caring what I looked like. I know it bothered Nick to touch the back of my head. Where once there had been a soft cloud of hair, now there was only stubble. He resented the sacrifice I had made to Rashad, but he understood my grief and comforted me in all the ways a man can comfort a woman. I have never worn my hair long since. To this day, as it begins to get long, I start to feel uncomfortable. I find myself shoving it around and worrying it through my fingers. So I keep it cut short even now to honor the memory of a truly exceptional man.

James gave most of his considerable inheritance to a charity that educated young people in India. I guess that was the great work he was sent back to do. Shortly before he died, he sent back the stone I had given him when we were children. He had had it polished smooth. He said that because the stone was smooth now, I didn't have to worry anymore. When James returned to the valley of sparkling life, I could feel it immediately, and the tears came in a rush. I could not stop crying. I felt so alone without James and Rashad.